


let your colors bleed, and blend with mine

by Yevynaea



Category: Leverage, Sense8 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sense8 (TV) Fusion, BPO, Coming Out Sensate, Eliot is Sensate, Fluff and Angst, Im sure i'll add more tags to this later when i think of em, Kidnapping, Multi, One Shot, Polyamory, Post-Canon, Sensate Cluster(s), Vague sense8 spoilers bc it's teeechnically a crossover, but its fine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-29 23:37:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15739623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yevynaea/pseuds/Yevynaea
Summary: He’s already been born again when he meets his team, and already seen what becomes of clusters who cannot stay hidden. BPO is a constant threat, one of many, in the background of Eliot’s life, and as associates start to become something more like friends, he keeps thinking he should say something, he should tell the crew, he should tell them, warn them… but he never does.





	let your colors bleed, and blend with mine

He’s already been born again when he meets his team, and already seen what becomes of clusters who cannot stay hidden. BPO is a constant threat, one of many, in the background of Eliot’s life, and as  _ associates _ start to become something more like  _ friends _ , he keeps thinking he should say something, he should tell the crew, he should tell them,  _ warn _ them… but he never does.

He takes blockers, when he can get them. He knows Parker’s seen him take them, knows she worries about what they might be. He knows Nate has his own suspicions, though Eliot doubts they're anywhere near the truth.

Nate and Sophie leave. Parker and Hardison formally invite him to call himself their boyfriend.  _ Friends  _ somehow became  _ family  _ while Eliot’s back was turned, became  _ these people I love, these people I would die for, these people I would kill again for.  _ On the day he realizes this, Eliot's stomach drops. He needs to tell them.

He doesn't.

 

“Oh,” Blair gives Eliot a lazy grin, hopping up to sit on the kitchen counter of Eliot’s (and his partners’) apartment. “Talking again, are we?”

“Ran out of blockers, my usual supplier moved,” Eliot shrugs, and keeps chopping potatoes. He can hear conversation, birds, and sheep, wherever Blair is at the moment, but he keeps himself present in the kitchen.

His cluster knows he appreciates them, almost loves them, in a way, but they also know that he has a job where distraction is dangerous, and they live in a world where being sensate is being a target. Plus, if he gets hurt, on blockers, they won't feel it too. He doesn't know if the rest of his cluster follow his advice and stay on blockers, as he does, but they’ve always respected his choice.

“Where are you?” Blair asks.

“Portland.”

“Still with your crew, then?”

“Just two. And we're…” Eliot trails off, unsure what word to use for himself and Parker and Hardison. Blair grins again, understanding anyway from whatever impression they get through the psycellium.

“Good for you!” Blair claps Eliot on the shoulder, and Eliot almost fumbles the knife. He glares, adjusting his grip, and Blair laughs and disappears.

 

Alec doesn't want to pry. Well, he does, but he  _ won't _ , because he knows Eliot’s past is a private thing, and Eliot doesn't want them to ask.  _ “Because if you asked, I'd tell you.” _

But the bottle of pills that refills itself regularly, that sits not-all-the-way-hidden in the medicine cabinet, and is never ever mentioned, is a little worrying. The lack of any kind of label or prescription on it, and the frequency with which Eliot takes them, even more so. Parker knows too, noticed them first, and said nothing, just like Alec is saying nothing, because they trust their partner and don't want to pry, and Eliot seems as fine as always.

Then the bottle runs out, and Eliot starts acting a little weird.

“All I’m saying is if you  _ make  _ something for yourself, exclusively, you should label it so other people know not to eat it,” Hardison says, as he pours chips onto his plate.

“Dammit, Hardison, I did one better, I put _your name_ on the one I made _for_ _you_.” Eliot pulls said sandwich from the fridge, wrapped in plastic and labeled _Hardison_. Alec looks at it, then at the unlabeled plastic that was wrapped around the third-eaten sandwich currently sitting on his plate.

“This one was on top, though. How was I supposed to see that from under this one?” he argues, and Eliot closes both the fridge and his eyes, annoyed.

“I'll eat this one,” Eliot starts to unwrap the  _ Hardison  _ sandwich, and Alec shrugs, grabs his plate and a bottle of orange soda, starts to head to the living room. Behind him, he hears Eliot mutter to himself: “No, I just ran out. Stop projecting.”

“Huh?” Hardison turns, and Eliot looks at him with an expression just a little too flat.

“Nothing,” Eliot says.

Alec reluctantly lets it go.

 

Eliot watches his boyfriend leave the kitchen. So does Daniyah.

“You should make him béchamel,” she says, when Alec is gone.

“You mean I should let  _ you _ make him béchamel,” Eliot corrects her.

“Absolutely,” Daniyah confirms.

“I'm getting more blockers soon,” Eliot points out. “Don't get used to hanging out.”

“Of course not.” Daniyah sighs. She sounds tired. “We all miss you, you know. You’re always this-- empty space.”

“Yeah,” Eliot says. Tiny hands grasp at his pant leg, and unthinkingly, he scoops Daniyah’s daughter into his arms. Daniyah smiles, and starts cooing to the toddler she's holding, and Eliot is alone in his kitchen again.

 

Alec didn't try very hard not to eavesdrop. The problem is he's only getting half a conversation.

“I’m getting more blockers soon,” he hears Eliot say. “Don't get used to hanging around.”

Alec waits.

“Yeah,” Eliot says. And then, unexpectedly, he walks out of the kitchen and sees Alec loitering around the corner before Alec can even think about retreating. “You heard,” Eliot guesses, sounding resigned.

“I heard  _ something _ ,” Alec agrees. “Do you--”

“I'll tell you. You and Parker-- you both need to know. But not yet.” Eliot is staring at Alec as he says this, intense eye contact that would have made Hardison nervous just a couple of years ago. Now, though, he just nods.

“In your own time, man,” he says. Eliot doesn't reply.

 

“You  _ want  _ to tell them, why are you working yourself up over this?” Natsumi demands.

“You're making everyone antsy,” Roshan agrees, annoyed but loving, teasing. “Tell them or hurry up with those replacement blockers.”

“Leave him alone, you know it isn't so simple.” Christel leans her head against Eliot's shoulder, comforting, as he stares at the movie on screen and sees none of it. Parker is against his other shoulder, with Alec on her other side, and neither sees Eliot’s cluster moving around the room as he works up the courage to finally,  _ finally,  _ say something.

“They won't reject you, you know that.” Daniyah says somewhere behind him.

“Do I?” Eliot asks, barely a sound, so his partners won't hear over the movie.

“Yes,” Osip says firmly. “You do.”

“Of course you do,” adds Christel.

“Or you wouldn't have stuck around this long.” Roshan, sitting on the floor, puts a hand on Eliot’s knee.

“Tell them,” Blair says quietly, and the sentiment echoes through their cluster, and Eliot takes a deep breath.

“I need to tell you something,” he says.

 

Parker has been waiting for this. She wants to know so badly what this secret is, Eliot and his pills and his talking to the air after the pills run out. She wants to know with the same vicious intensity that she might want to crack a brand new safe.

“I'm six other people,” is not a  _ thoroughly _ unexpected answer, but it's not one Parker’s ever considered for very long.

“Oh,” Hardison says. “So… it's not just Eliot in there?”

Eliot shifts, uncomfortable.

“Yes and no,” he says eventually. “I know what you're probably thinking right now and it-- it’s more like I'm connected with other people, I don't have-- I mean…” he trails off, and Parker and Alec wait, and Eliot says, “I wanted to explain this myself, but I think someone else might be able to do it better.”

And Parker watches Eliot’s posture shift, his expression soften, his eyes light up, as someone Not Eliot takes over.

“Hi,” says the new person, smiling.

“Hey,” Alec responds, hesitant. Parker says nothing, just stares, looking for where Eliot went. She doesn't see him in there.

“My name is Natsumi,” the new person introduces, holding out one of Eliot’s hands for a handshake, which Parker nudges Alec to take.

“That's a Japanese name,” Parker says.

“Yes,” Natsumi agrees. “I live in Sapporo. Eliot and I are in a cluster of seven--”

“Wait, you live in Japan? Like… you're your own full human being?” Alec asks.

“Yes,” Natsumi nods. Then, “hey!”

And Eliot’s posture and expression shift again, still unfamiliar. Parker doesn't like this.

“Short version: Eliot is… psychic. The term is sensate,” someone new says. “Or _ homo sensorium,  _ a parallel human species to  _ sapiens. _ There are people trying to hunt us down, using our own ability against us. The downside of being a global network is, any other sensate can find you.”

“Nuh-uh, nope, this just got X-Men way too fast for me,” says Hardison, standing up from the couch, then immediately sitting again when Parker pulls on his arm. The new person laughs, and it's  _ almost  _ Eliot’s laugh, coming from his mouth, but it’s louder, bigger, free and whole and unconcerned in a way Eliot’s has never been. Parker  _ does not  _ like this.

“Sensates are psychically connected to each other in groups called clusters, who all took their first breath together. One person becomes many, and many become one.” the new someone says. “Eliot is in our cluster. There are seven of us, but not all clusters are the same size. The pills Eliot takes are blockers, they keep him disconnected.”

“This is the  _ short _ version?” Hardison asks.

“Why?” Parker asks over him. _One becomes many, and many become one_ … she may not be another human species but she knows what _that_ part feels like, now, and she doesn't want to think about what being disconnected from her boys would be like.

Eliot shifts again, eyes regaining their intensity, smile dropping, and Parker relaxes more than she realized she could. He's back.

“That was Osip,” he says. “He's good at talking about this stuff; he had like twenty siblings and cousins to explain it to.”

“Why do you keep them cut off?” Parker repeats, because Eliot is evading the question.

“...It's safer that way,” Eliot eventually replies.

“People hunting you,” Hardison repeats. Eliot nods. “Can we… help?”

Eliot frowns, eye flicking sideways at someone who isn't there.

“No,” he says. “The people after us-- it would take too long, to bring BPO down. It would put us all in more danger to try.”

Parker knows he's including her and Alec, when he says  _ all _ . Knows by the way he looks at them, the way his hands twitch like he wants to hold theirs. Parker puts her hand in his, and he holds it tight, presses a grateful kiss to the back of it.

“We're used to danger,” she points out.

“Parker,” he warns, but he's smiling, a rare, small, soft thing. “No.”

“Okay,” she agrees.

“I am gonna research this ‘BPO' thing, though,” Hardison chimes in, taking Eliot's free hand. Eliot sighs.

“Just be careful,” he concedes.

“‘Course,” Alec replies.

 

“See?” Roshan says, pressing a friendly kiss to Eliot’s temple. “Nothing to worry about.”

His cluster disappear, leaving him with his partners.

“So, tell us about the others,” Hardison grins. “I gotta know who you learned all your craziness from. All the fighting styles, and languages--”

“I've been on blockers since before I met you guys,” Eliot scoffs. “That's all me.”

“See, no one person needs to be that impressive,” Alec says, and Parker smiles when Eliot does.

  
  
  
  


His old supplier puts him in touch with another, but she won't have blockers for him for a week.

They're going over the plans for their latest heist-- and it is a pretty straightforward heist, this time, not a grift or a long con, shouldn't take long to be in and out-- when Eliot realizes something.

“We have to postpone,” he tells his partners, and before he can blink he's in Christel’s apartment, the change of scenery kind of jarring after spending so long disconnected.

“You don't have to do that,” she says, absently flipping channels on the TV.

“Yes I do,” he replies. She gives him a look.

“You help people. A lot of people. Don't put that on hold because you don't think we can take a hit.”

“Besides,” adds Daniyah, “you know we've gotten bruised before. You know we can take it.”

“Blair’s shitty brother and armed, trained fighters are two different situations,” Eliot shakes his head. “The job can wait a week.”

He's back in the brewpub as he says this.

“A lot could change in a week, man,” Hardison says skeptically.

“If I have to fight while off blockers--” Eliot starts, but a hand clapping down on his shoulder interrupts him.

“Then we will take it,” finishes Roshan.

Eliot sighs. Parker and Hardison watch him, waiting.

“Okay,” Eliot agrees. To his cluster, he continues, “I hope you know what you're signing up for,” and to his partners, he adds, “let's go steal--”

“Hey! That's my line!” Parker protests. Alec laughs. Natsumi giggles, and Eliot quickly schools his face back to neutral the moment she slips out of his body.

 

The job goes well, if Lucille III having four new bullet holes and Eliot having one can be called “well”. His cluster clearly all feel it too, but in a stubborn show of nobility, none of them have complained.

“Sorry,” Eliot mutters anyway, downing the painkillers Parker hands him.

“We told you to go ahead with the job.” Daniyah shakes her head. “If anyone should be sorry, it should be us, for getting you shot.”

“Still,” Eliot frowns.

“Who is it?” Parker asks simply.

“Daniyah.”

“Hi,” Parker says. Daniyah smiles, soft, and waves.

“She says hi,” Eliot relays to Parker.

 

Eliot is still in pain and on strict orders not to be up and about when he gets a text from his new supplier.

_ 5th/Oak SB, 6pm. _

It’s about 5:30 now, a glance at the clock tells him. Another text comes in a moment later, confirming the price they'd agreed on for the month’s supply. Eliot starts to stand, and Hardison is immediately at his side to push him-- gently-- back down onto the couch.

“Dammit, Hardison, I need to go,” Eliot says.

“What is so important that you need to be up right now?” Alec asks.

“Blockers,” Eliot replies. Alec  _ hmms _ .

“Parker!” he calls. “Make sure Eliot rests, I'm running an errand!”

“What? I wanna go!” Parker calls back from elsewhere in their apartment.

“I don't need babysitting,” Eliot scowls, trying to stand a second time. It's pitifully easy for Hardison to push him down to sitting again.

“You do, a little bit,” Osip says, unhelpfully, and Eliot glares at him. Alec follows his gaze, finds no one there, and grins.

“ _ They _ can make you stay!” he says.

“No,” Eliot starts, but Hardison has already turned to approximately where Osip is standing and, now, laughing.

“Do your best to keep him from getting up,” Alec instructs. “Possess him, or whatever, if you have to.”

“I  _ love _ him,” Osip says to Eliot, who can only sigh in defeat.

“Fine, I'll stay,” he says. “Just let me warn her.”

He types out a text,

**Sending proxies. You can trust them** _. _

The reply comes in quickly:

_ that's suspicious as fuck, dude. _

**Fair enough** .

He scrolls through his photos, finds one from a few weeks ago, of the three of them. It was taken strategically to get their mark's “landmark” building in the background, but the foreground is himself and Hardison and Parker, arms wrapped around each other, all smiling. He sends it.

**I'm in the middle** , he texts.  **Look for them.**

Alec and Parker are both hovering impatiently behind the couch, reading over his shoulder, by the time the reply finally comes:

_ fine. _

Eliot hears the distinctive sound of Parker and Hardison high-fiving behind his back.

 

Parker can't stop bouncing her leg, as she sits with Hardison in the corner of Starbucks. She's got a cake pop, and he's got some kind of sugary chocolate drink, both overpriced and both delicious, but Parker can't focus on anything but the strangers coming and going from the coffee shop, trying to guess who they're supposed to be meeting.

Then a woman comes in, scanning the room from behind unnecessary sunglasses, and Parker elbows Alec at the same moment the woman seemingly notices them both. She approaches their table.

“What’d’you know,” she says jokingly, sliding into a seat. “You actually look like your photo.”

 

Eliot, sitting on the couch with Osip and Natsumi sandwiching him, gets a text at 6:04.

_ see u next month? same price. _

Then a second.

_ ur friends(?) seem nice ;) _

Eliot smiles.

**They are** , he writes back.

“Add a smiley face,” Natsumi instructs, and before he can think better of it, he does.

 

“You should all be on these, too,” Eliot says, uncapping the bottle, and Blair wrinkles their nose.

“Not likely.” they smile. “You've got your sweethearts to keep you company. I'd be all alone out here.”

They gesture to the hills around them, green and beautiful and covered with sheep, not another person in sight. Eliot nods, downing a pill.

“Be careful,” he says. He's already said his latest farewells to the rest of them.

“When am I not?” Blair asks. They wrap him in a hug, and then they're gone.

  
  
  


Eliot was  _ tangentially _ aware of Alec wrangling contact information out of his cluster, when it was happening. He would switch out, do a lap of Christel’s art gallery, help Daniyah’s daughter tie her shoes, play darts with Osip’s siblings, while whoever’s body Eliot was in jumped over to his to get to know Parker and Hardison.

Knowing it happened doesn't make it less weird that suddenly they're all calling, all video-chatting or texting him little updates, and photos, keeping him connected the only way that's left. It's nice, though, having that.

And then suddenly it's  _ useful _ , in the worst way, because Eliot took a blocker before bed and it hasn't worn off yet by the time he's being woken up by a phone ringing on the nightstand. Parker groans. He hears her pick it up and say “hello?” and he starts to go back to sleep, and then she's shaking him and urgently pressing the phone to his ear, and he's awake in an instant.

“Hello?” Eliot asks.

“They got Blair,” says Osip’s voice. Eliot’s stomach drops.

  
  
  


They prepare as quickly as they can. Hardison hacks cameras and tracks transports and buys plane tickets. Parker packs supplies and starts planning. Eliot waits impatiently for the blockers to wear off, and in the meantime he keeps the phone on speaker, letting his partners and his cluster connect. Eliot feels useless, in those few hours, but he pushes it down. He knows his contributions look different.

They fly to the facility where Blair was taken. Eliot has his cluster in his ears, as Hardison and Parker put on lab coats and freshly made BPO ID badges, as they “strap” him to a gurney, as they roll him into the belly of the beast.

There's no one to stop them. No Cannibal. No one important who would dare to ask questions. They get in, and they find Blair, and they get out with barely a snag. It almost feels too easy.

 

They find out  _ why _ it was so easy the very next day, when reports pop up on the news of BPO’s Chairman and “top researcher” both dying in a freak helicopter accident. There's no footage, no photos of the wreckage, which screams  _ cover-up. _ BPO is under new management, effective immediately, and within weeks, people start re-appearing in the Archipelago. Things start changing for the better. There's no more bogeyman, no more shadow to look for over their shoulders.

 

“Whoever pulled this off,” Roshan says, raising the beer in Eliot’s hand toward the TV, where BPO’s new Chairwoman is in the middle of a much-needed press release, “I want to shake their hands.”

“I’ll drink to that, man,” Hardison says, taking a swig of his orange soda like it's a shot.

Eliot laughs, just a little. It's hard not to be exhilarated, right now, and he's having trouble re-adjusting to having to differentiate between his own emotions and those that find him through the psycellium. He's a little off-balance. So he can't be blamed for the sappy “I love you” that comes out of his mouth.

Alec looks a little surprised, which just makes Eliot feel like he needs to say it more often.

“I love you too,” he says. Then, over his shoulder, toward the kitchen where Parker is getting more popcorn, “Parker! I love you!”

“Love you, Parker!” Eliot calls,

“Love you too, I think!” Parker replies. Natsumi takes over Eliot’s body to laugh, free and loud and unconcerned. He doesn't stop her.


End file.
